Christmas Eve 1986. I was 11. Boarding a Scanair DC-8-63 at Gothenburg very early in the morning to fly to Las Palmas. Cloudy at first and snow everywhere. The cabin was like a never-ending tube.
Cabin crew wore Christmas caps and it was very special to fly on this ‘sacred’ day when you were normally supposed to be at home waiting for Father Christmas.
As the DC-8 was pushed back, the sun broke through the clouds and when we were lined up, the beautiful aircraft bathed in sunshine. Its four JT3D’s spooled up, I had a window seat of course (and how huge those windows were!), and the giant DC-8 slowly started rolling.
Five hours later, we approached Gran Canaria and I remember asking my mother “are we really supposed to land on that tiny island?”. Eventually we did, and I’ll never forget when I stepped out of the aft exit onto the stairs and into the wonderful climate. I had a small camera with me and took some snaps as I went down. I still have those photos and treasure them a lot – they were among the first aviation photos I ever took.
The holiday was great, by the way, and two weeks later we flew home on another DC-8. The last DC-8 flight for me…
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